I woke up today, and was feelin' a little down, so I wrote this instead of working on Times Change. Please don't hurt me for doing this to Spot.

Disclaimer- I don't own the Newsies.

It was long dark as he knelt next to his bed in the tiny room. An oil lamp flickered softly on the tiny bedside table. He folded his hands and began to pray.

Deah God, please look aftah me boys. Make shoah dey'se gets enough ta eat, 'nd always have a warm, safe place ta sleep. 'nd please tell Momma I'se loves her, 'nd I'se misses her… Amen.

With that, Spot crossed himself and crawled into his bed. He quickly fell asleep and began to dream.

Spot was no longer Spot, but little Sean Conlon, only seven years old. He was crying. His mother was dying of fever before his very eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it. His father was in America, in a city called New York. He had been for near a year. Spot bathed his mother's for head with water as she shivered.

"It's okay, Momma. You'll get better. I'll take care of you." He babbled in desperation. There was no more medicine, and no more money to get some. "Please, Momma, please. Hold on for a little."

It had been four days, and the fever had yet to break. Four sleepless nights that Sean had spent watching over her, praying to God and every saint to spare her, heal her.

"Sean…" Sean's mother said weakly, groping for his hand. He placed it in hers. "Sean, I have to go now."

"No, Momma!" Sean cried out, clutching her hand.

"Yes, baby. I have to go, but don't cry for me. I'll still watch out for you. I love you, Sean."

Sean felt her grip slacken and watched the light leave her eyes.

"No!" He screamed. "No! Momma, don't leave me! Come back! Come back…" His voice broke as he sobbed, rocking back and forth.

Spot awoke with a jerk. His chest heaved and tears ran down his face. Dawn's light was starting to gently light the room. Spot took a deep breath and untangled himself from his covers.

The King of Brooklyn straightened his shoulders and went out to start the day. But in the back of his mind, a little boy was crying out,

Momma, please don't go!